My breath rasped between my lips as I marched through the darkness. The freezing midnight air burned my chest. I cradled my rifle as my feet monotonously followed the legs of my squadron. My name is Lieutenant Raiment Krank, and I am a soldier in Adolf Hitler's Nazi Party. I joined the army fourteen months ago, however, it seems as though I came out of my mother's womb a Nazi. Miserable memories that I tried to keep submerged in my subconscious began to painfully surface. Fourteen ever-so short months ago, I had eagerly walked into the office of General Klaus Larkin in Berlin. A long, thick scar that looked as if it was made by a stray bullet ran down his cheek. He was standing behind his heavy, oak desk that was overflowing with paperwork. A swastika hung down the front. Standing beside him was his right-hand-man, Colonel Tort Derrick. Morning sunlight flooded through a large, ornate window, elongating all the shadows. "Good afternoon, Herr Krank," Larkin said. I remember that the scar had wriggled as his mouth moved. His eyes wrinkled. He was at least sixty years old, but his feats didn't show it. He was the sort of grizzled, old man who would strangle a rabid lynx with his bare hands if he were in a sour mood. He must've noticed my broad grin, for he then commented, "You certainly seem thrilled. You've had a good week, I presume?" My smirk grew as I responded, "Just yesterday, I asked for Susan Agna's hand in marriage." "Frau Agna?" Tort seemed intrigued. "I've heard that many young men have been competing for her hand." "Yes, and today we began preparing for our wedding. It'll be so grand..." "I'm very happy for you," Larkin smoothly interrupted. "Now to a bit of business." His original joyful tone dropped to an intense one. "I understand that you came here to join the Fuhrer's Nazi Party." I solemnly nodded. Susan had convinced me to enlist in the ranks of the German army. She wished for me to be a great colonel one day, just like her grandfather. As he stepped around the desk, Larkin asked, "Why do you think you have what it takes to be Adolf Hitler's Army?" I had prepared for this question. "Two months ago, I attended Germany's finest training camp. My past relatives were all involved in brutal police work. Also-" "I didn't ask for a résumé!" Larkin snapped. "Tell me why I should choose you instead of Glint Schlep who was in here before you." "I..." My mind had gone completely blank. "Why are you here?" Larkin bellowed. A bead of nervous sweat raced down my forehead. I gulped to push a putrid-tasting lump down my throat. My options swiftly cycled through my mind. First off, I could bluff. My grandfather's company had gone out of business, or my sister's nanny had just quit, and she had to watch the children from sunrise to sunset. A good sympathetic story would thrust me right up the ranks of the army. Secondly, if I couldn't bear to lie to a general, I could simply walk out and explain to Susan that I was turned away. But, then again, if I couldn't tell an untruth to a stranger, I definitely wouldn't be able to lie to the love of my life. "You're wasting my time, Krank!" Larkin barked at the top of his incredibly flexible lungs. I took a deep breath and truthfully said, "I wish to protect my future wife and sons against any evil that plows through them and the country." General Larkin turned his head to glance at Tort, who was still loitering behind the desk. Tort' gave a short but powerful nod. The solid eyes of Larkin mutely agreed with the movement. "Congratulations, Krank," Larkin said, smiling warmly now. A breath of sweet relief flew out of my lungs. My heart had been beating so rapidly, it was threatening to wear down every blood vessel in my body. Much to my embarrassment, I was bouncing giddily on my heels. Tort spoke, "Your official inauguration will take place in four months' time, but until then, we have a brief test of loyalty for you to pass." His arm extended under the desk. He flexed and pulled a small, furry object into the open. Sitting on his palm was a puppy Cocker Spaniel. I craned my neck to look below the dog’s belly and check its gender. To my pleasure, it was a female. Her eyes were black as the endless stretches of space. They studied my every movement with a mixture of fright and curiosity. She was sniffing the air so hurriedly that I thought her nose would pop right off. Tort's hand slid forward and he placed the puppy into my arms. She obviously didn't care for being so high in the air, because she had immediately buried her warm face into my chest. "Care for her," Larkin kindly instructed with an expression of delight on his face, "as if she was your daughter." I had merrily walked out of Klaus Larkin's office that afternoon with my new companion wrapped firmly in my arms. Already, she had grown accustomed to my scent. As I cruised down the bustling streets of Berlin, I searched for the perfect name of my new treasure. At once, it came to me: Elma, “God's Protection.” The next four months seemed as though they were a dream, and the telegram from Klaus Larkin was a bucket of cold water that yanked me out of the marvelous wonderland. The slip of paper instructed me to report to his office the next day, and to bring Elma along. Shadowy clouds had rolled across the sky as I ambled down the road. I was hiding Elma within my coat to protect her from the oncoming storm. By the time I stepped into Larkin's office, rain was plummeting from the sky as if a celestial dam had burst. I took Elma out of my coat and held her in my arms. "Welcome back, Krank," Tort welcomed me. He must've arrived just moments before I did, because he was draping his soaked raincoat over an armchair. Larkin was sitting in a leather seat behind the desk. This time, the blinds covered the window. A single lamp struggled to keep the room lit, but the remaining darkness gave it a gloomy atmosphere. "Ah, Krank." Larkin noticed me for the first time, even though I had been awkwardly standing in front of his desk for several seconds. He turned his attention from a stack of paperwork to Elma and myself. Elma whimpered and smashed her body closer to mine. She didn't seem too happy to be back in this room. "Have you taken care of your dog?" I wanted to say, “Of course I have. She's become my source of joy and hope the past months. All the stress of planning the wedding instantly melted away when I saw her wagging tail. And Susan adores her too. This puppy truly is a blessing.” However, all that came out of my mouth had been, "Yes, I believe I have." A smile stretched across Larkin's world-weary face. His scar turned into a question mark-shape. "She looks healthy. That's very good." I remember that he had scribbled something down on his list at that point. "What did you name her?" "Elma," I gleefully replied. A small smirk quickly came and left on Larkin's face. "Elma... 'God's Protection'... That's beautiful." I saw flash of lightning and heard a clap of thunder from behind the drawn blinds over the window. Elma's tiny tongue had begun to lick my fingers. "Yes, she seems to like you very much," Tort butted in. "That's a very important quality to have between a dog and her master," Larkin conversationally said. He looked up into my face. "Kill her." Slowly, my mind put his words to their meanings. "E-Excuse me?" "Kill her," Larkin barked, "and you will have what it takes to be among the Nazi Army." My breath had begun to shudder. I risked a glance down at Elma. Her sweet eyes lovingly looked back up at me. The muscles in my jaw twitched as my hand clamped around Elma's throat, but I couldn't bring myself to tighten my fingers. "For Germany, Krank," Larkin whispered. A short scream escaped my throat as I began to strangle my precious puppy. I felt the weak muscles in her neck strain to fight away my fingers. Her legs flailed, but in a matter of seconds, it was over. Tort said, "Congratulations, Krank," once again. I'd longed to hear those words for months, but suddenly, they were words of misery and death. "Tomorrow, you will join dozens of other men in Hitler's Nazi Party..." The memory faded back into the present. General Larkin and Colonel Tort were leading a group of twenty German soldiers into a relatively small town populated almost entirely by Jews. Just before heading out, the Fuhrer had spoken out to all the squads, but it felt as though he was talking directly to me. I remember every single one of his words: "I know you all are frightened, but Germany needs you all at your best. Capture every Jew on sight. If they resist, fire upon them. Ernst vom Rath must not have been murdered by the filthy-blooded Jews in vain. He will rest in peace knowing that you brave men are purifying this great world! Hail victory!" The following thundering applause nearly shattered my ear drums. We all knew what was about to happen. Were there some doubts? Some secret thoughts of rebellion? Maybe. Most likely, actually. But Adolf's orders were precise, and our unwavering loyalty was tighter than iron shackles. My wandering mind strayed again to my quarters in Berlin where my dearly beloved Susan sat, anxiously waiting for my return. I could imagine her silky hair and pale, luscious face as if I were staring at a photograph. Resting on her lap would be my son of four months, Franco. He had blue eyes that seemed to have no end, like his mother, and a tuft of curly, blonde hair atop his head, like me. Just a week ago, a tooth had sprouted out of his gums. My toes felt as though they were frozen solid. I flexed my fingers to get my blood moving through them.Larkin spoke to me. "This is it, Krank," he murmured. "For Germany." That was the second time he'd told me that, and the first time was just before I'd killed one of my loves. Did that mean that something horrid would happen this time? The squadron arrived at the border of the village. Much to my surprise, several teams had already begun liberating the community. All the swastikas looked like spiders scurrying around the slums. As if a silent signal had been given, the group of men split up and dashed across the town square. An elderly man gripping a pistol limped out of his home. The tell-tale Star of David was implanted on his chest. His lip was curled up into a hateful snarl. He fired a pistol and I heard an adjacent scream. A Nazi corpse fell to the cobblestone ground. Before I knew what I was doing, I was lumbering toward the man. I cried out and jabbed the butt of my rifle into his temple. He crumpled to the ground and dropped his gun. I pointed my rifle at him, but before I could fire, he glared at me and yelled, "Why? What did we ever do to you?" Every movement around me seemed to slow. His words started a chain reaction in my thought process. This was not the first time these doubts had shaken the foundation of my loyalty. But, before I could reach any conclusion, Tort's voice shot out through the pandemonium. "Krank! Watch out!" Several gunshots rang in my ears. I looked back down at the Jewish man to find myself staring down the barrel of his pistol. He must've picked it back up. Four bloody bullet holes were in his chest. His carcass slumped backward. Tort's scolding voice shouted at me yet again: "Watch your back more carefully, Lieutenant!" I felt a searing heat on the back of my neck. I spun around and saw a synagogue with flames leaping out of its shattered windows to lick at the sky. Pained screams came from within its scorching clutches. Then, an insignificant yelp came from under my legs. I glanced down and saw a small Jewish toddler, who was no more than five months old. He had blue eyes that seemed to have no end, like Susan, and a tuft of curly, blond hair atop his head, like me. One tooth had sprouted out of his gums. This Jewish boy was an exact replica of Franco. Hitler's orders echoed in my mind: "Capture every Jew on sight. If they resist, fire upon them." The boy's cries of abandonment wrenched my heart. I began to agonizingly walk away. Larkin sprinted up to me. A fresh scar had been formed across his forehead. "Krank, bundle up that Jewish boy," he sneered. I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came to mind. "Krank," Larkin thundered. "This is an order from your General! Get that worthless garbage!" My nostrils flared and I ground my teeth together. My stomach felt as though I was dropping a thousand feet. Larkin hollered and punched me in the face. I stumbled backward. He'd probably given me a black eye. He hissed in my ear, "We'll deal with this when we get back to the base." Enraged, he stomped over to the boy, who was still sprawled on the ground. Larkin pulled back his foot and slammed his steel-toed boots into the child's ribs. He shrieked, but Larkin ignored him and stomped on the boy's frail foot. I began to hyperventilate. My hands were shaking furiously. I raised my rife and shot at the sky. "Stop it!" I bellowed. Larkin turned and saw my infuriated face. He smiled maliciously, pursed his lips, and spat on the boy's face. My finger pulled the trigger on my rifle. A gunshot fired from the barrel and landed in General Larkin's heart. My finger yanked at the trigger again and again. Finally, I ran out of ammunition. Larkin collapsed, dead. My eyes rotated and saw Tort, gaping at the murder. Frightening thoughts occurred to me: I, a soldier, had just murdered my commanding officer. I was an enemy to the country. I threw down my useless gun and gingerly scooped up the boy. I began to run out of the village. At the side of my vision, I could make out Tort drawing a revolver and aiming at me. Two bullets buried themselves in my back. White-hot pain erupted all throughout my body, but I didn't care. I needed to protect this boy. Suddenly, it had become my only goal. Several minutes later, I stopped in the middle of a patch of grass a mile away from the town. I could still see the smoke from the fire that was now consuming all in its way. The wintry air turned my breath to mist as soon as it left my mouth. I was unexpectedly aware of how cold it was. Blood covered my entire back and both of my aching legs. I tried to will them to keep going, but they simply couldn't. My body sank onto the stubby grass. Dark spots began to block my vision. I knew I had mere moments left, but I was strangely calm. I set the boy among the grass. Those scumbags will never find him here, I thought to myself. I settled my head on the hard, wintry ground and closed my eyes for the last time. I felt small, fragile arms wrap around mine. I smiled, and stopped breathing.

Interview

Each week authors will be given a new question to answer which will lend additional insight into their story and writing process. Do you have a question you'd like to see the authors answer? Tweet it to @aNextAuthor!

Q:

What is the best writing advice you've ever heard?

A:

Sadly, people tend to outgrow the wonder of imagination. There are no limits on your mind, so the best advice I've ever heard is daydream, daydream, daydream. When you explore your mind, you just might find something amazing.

Q:

When you start a new story do you prepare an outline in advance or do you just jump right in?

A:

Making an outline is critical to making your story flow right. That being said, I rarely do that. Sometimes it's best to see where the characters take you on their own.

Reviews

Earth Wind & Fire

I was really impressed by this story, especially since its author is so young. It's a great story regardless, though. John Grisham could've written it and I'd have never known the difference.

HalseyWood

I wish I was besties with this author!!! He's so articulate and insightful. This story is one of the best I've read on this site.

Bruce Wayne

Honestly, the best writing I've seen since Tolstoy. This is a beautiful piece. Evoking so much emotion with a short story is so rare. I simply cannot contain my tears.

Lit Lover

This story is fantastic. Such emotion, such description! I loved it! Incredible!

Andre`

Good job! very engaging! Kudos to you. I liked that the main character wasn't a cliche` war hero (6'2 with a superhero chin, taking bullets like the terminator)
Check out my story "Breath of Fresh Air"

PatMc

Great story. Keep up the good work!

julia

Loved your story!

Lori Paris

I enjoyed your clear point of view as the author/soldier. There was a really rough transition in there....but I think that almost every short story has at least one.
Good Job.

SneakyImmigrant

This book is orgasmic

hi

THIS IS THE BEST THING IVE EVER READ IN MY ENTIRE LIFE

Very engaging!

Luke's story is very engaging and captivating. He clearly has a lot of natural talent and I'm impressed at the maturity of this piece given his age. I almost cried at the puppy scene - it was so well written that I felt like I was right there with him and his anguish as he had to destroy something he loved so much. I do agree that the ending felt rushed and that everything was tied up way too quickly. I wanted to have more and was disappointed the story ended so abruptly, but that's only because I was enjoying it so much! I definitely think you are going to go far with your writing!

Jackson

BlondeD

Disturbingly vivid. Forgivable lapses in historical accuracy. Obvious this reader is outside the writer's target audience: his own age group and social circles.

frylock

Not too bad, question could there be a voice particular in the german style that is noticable and heard differetly with word phrase, that would easily lable, german/nazi. Just a thought if one should research it.

Bruce M

Highly original.

Saxon Black

Brilliant! No other words. I WANT MORE!

Plutokaiser

This is an excellent take on sedaris' "double narrative." Good Job!
Also, good job getting to #1 If anyone here has the time to read my story under "Plutokaiser," I would appreciate thoughtful advice and comments. Please give the story a chance and don't read it with your mind already decided!

Lisa Rose

Excellent story! I felt Krank's desperation, fear and sorrow as he strangled the puppy. Then when he saved the boy I felt his peace. If you have the time please read my story, 'Drift Away' and leave a review to let me know if you liked it.

La Borracha

An amazing story! Can't wait for more!!!

G Diddly

I absolutely love this short story!!! Mr. Swanson has a way with words! Wonderful, truly moving story! Cant wait for more!

PennilessWriter

This is a magnificent idea. Great use of historical detail and while it is intriguing to read, it is a little over-written. With a little tidying up and some better formatting (it suffers from wall-of-text syndrome), it could be truly great. Such a promising start from such a young writer foreshadows some pretty good writing in the future.

Aunt V

Good style, excellent sensory description. I would like to see Luke write something in the present--a plot with perhaps a setting he has experienced. Keep writing, Mr. S!

History Repeats Itself

Excellent read. Moving. Could feel the emotion and relief of one doing the right thing even if the price is dear. Drove home the point that those without true convictions and cowards are the ones who use the phrase "I was only taking orders." Mr. Swanson has a talent for imagery. I liked how he illustrated both tragedy and triumph in one act.

Your cousin Beth

Wow. Dark and hard to read, but in a good way though. I was there with him and felt his inner struggle. I cringed. You made me sympathize with a because he had feelings and he cared. :) Well done Coz!

Victoria Engle

As I began to read I found myself falling deeper and deeper into the progression of the story. I was quickly drawn into an era of time this young man lived and experienced, feeling his pain for the cruelty and horror of such a time. I am so excited for this young author, Luke Swanson, and look forward to reading more of his writes.

#ANA2012 | What Fans Have To Say

About

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and publishing industry experts will read authors' submissions and nominate their
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